


It's Okay

by waffle_walks



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Kinda Fluffy, M/M, just a little introspective thinking, shance, vld
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-13
Updated: 2017-06-13
Packaged: 2018-11-13 17:59:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,211
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11190366
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/waffle_walks/pseuds/waffle_walks
Summary: “What are you fighting to protect?”





	It's Okay

The planet was lively with freedom’s praise. Alien peoples gathered in the streets, along with a joyous parade thrown in the honor of Voltron and the heroes piloting it. Fluffy clouds stacked themselves on the horizon of the shimmering water of the planet. Smells of cooking food wafted from the streets to the upper levels, the entirety of the jovial setting was sure to make even Zarkon smile. 

Yet Lance sat alone in his ruffled formal gown, bent over an elegant glass railing on an obscure balcony. His gaze was focused on nothing in particular, while his mind raced a hundred miles a minute. Thoughts of home. Family. Galaxy Garrison. Blue. Rain. The ocean. 

 

He misses it all. It’s a deep-set feeling, a sort of hollowness that had settled in his chest. Tugging on him, like a gentle string. Bouts of longing usually came in waves, moreso when he was left alone with only his mind as company. 

 

It’s a cruel thing, the mind.

 

Vast, full of so much potential. Kind of like space. Where everything seems so far away, so distant and never changing. But it’s also  _ so _ connected. Pulled by gravity and always changing. Strong. Inevitable.

It’s scary. So  _ so  _ scary. Anything could happen. He could forget his family. Forget the way his mother would scold him and pinch his ear, how his father would tell him inspiring lessons from his own life, how his siblings would always pester each other.

 

He was afraid to forget the ocean most of all. His ocean. The beach he grew up on. The salty mist and the soft sand that would stick between his toes. No planet he’s come across has a beach like Varadero.

He swirled the cup in his hand, watched as the pink liquid shimmered from the lights around him. It glittered like the very stars he fights to protect.

Fighting. A war that has lasted over 10,000 years. A war that he’s got no idea how long it will take to fight.    
_ What do I fight for? What’s the point of it all?  _

It’s rolling onto him thicker, his back and shoulders hot with agitation as he tugged at the sheer collar of his gown. His vision blurred with tears that refused to fall.

 

_ Stupid war. Stupid space. Stupid brain. Stupid feelings. Stupid, stupid, stupid- _

 

“Lance?” A deep voice called to him softly, and then a hand touched his back just underneath the shoulder blade.

“What are you doing alone out here? Everyone else is- have you been crying?”

The blue paladin quickly rubbed the tears away, laughing.

“Wha- Me? Crying? No not at all. Manly men like me don’t cry.” The hand on his back moved to rest low on his waist while he was pulled into the voice’s arms. 

“Lance. Just because you’re manly doesn’t mean you can’t cry.”

  
He vaguely noted somewhere in his clustered thoughts that the voice was Shiro.

 

“Do you want to talk about it?” Shiro inquired, his prosthetic moving to card through the brown hair and overheated scalp.

  
The slight chill of the metal soothed him.

  
He was silent, trying to organize the chaos that was his mind. His throat burned at the words he wanted to say. There was just  _ so _ many things Lance wanted to talk about. A small sob made its way from his vocals, and the black paladin pulled him closer as the brunet let himself fall apart and unwind - like a ball of yarn being unraveled. The stress of constant battle and unknown futures pushing him over the edge after weeks of bottling up to do his job.

 

When his sobbing dissolved to hiccups, he wrapped his arms around Shiro’s shoulders. 

 

“Do you ever miss home?”    
“Home?”   
“Earth. Your family. Weather, the sun and the moon and annoying babies in stores where regular Earth food and Earth clothes were sold.” Lance had a white-knuckled grip on the back of Shiro’s thin cloak. 

 

They held each other is stilted silence.

 

“I do miss it, sometimes. It's where we are from and holds memories dear to us all. I have only my mother and father, but they think I'm dead because of the garrison. I do miss my corner in the library I would visit, and coffee. But Lance, we have a mission here now, we hav-” 

“WHAT MISSION? What goal do we have? We are  _ in space fighting giant purple furries for what?  _ I just want- I just want to go home, Shiro.”

 

He heard the leader take a deep breath, the distant sounds of festivities ringing up from the crowd below. 

 

“Lance,” he started softly, “I understand that you want to go home. The entire team does. You aren't alone in how you feel. But as to what we are fighting for? Taking down the empire. Protecting the homes we want safe. You have to ask yourself what you are protecting, the lions chose us for a reason. You have to trust that your own potential is the key to fighting for what you want.”

The blue paladin nuzzled his face into the crook of Shiro's neck and intertwined their fingers.

 

“Shiro?”

 

“Yes Lance?”

 

“What are you fighting to protect?”

 

The man in question pondered a bit, letting out a thoughtful hum that played into Lance’s ear.

“I fight to protect my parents and friends on Earth. I fight to protect the rain, to protect the place I called home and and everything extending from there. I'm fighting to protect what the others of Earth aren't able to. And I fight…” he trailed off, piquing Lance’s interest.

“You fight for what? I couldn't hear that last part.” 

The black paladin cleared his throat, his grip on the brunet tightening.

 

“I fight to protect you too, Lance.”

 

Lance looked at their intertwined fingers, wrapped like the gentle vines that climbed many of the structures on the planet they now stood. 

 

A whistle sounded in the distance, then followed the explosion and crackling of an alien firework that lit the night sky with twinkling ashes. Below the people cheered loudly.

Shiro pulled away from their embrace first, cupping Lance's chin between cool metal fingers. 

 

“I mean every word, Lance.”

 

The sweetness in his voice was thicker than honey, shimmering gray eyes looking into his own with such an open honesty that Lance melted. He let his tears drip freely down his face as he reached his free hand up to hold Shiro’s cheek.

“I believe you. I'll always believe in you. It’s just- It’s just hard sometimes.”   
Shiro hummed in agreement, prosthetic thumb now brushing at the tears that had trickled down the tan check it held.

 

“Remember that we are here for you, Lance. Don’t sit alone with these thoughts, you have the whole team. You have me.” And with that, Lance leaned up and pressed his lips to Shiro’s. Warm. Gentle. Innocent. A kiss that’s shared between the two often but it always brings a feeling of spring through Lance, like a blooming flower in his being that gave way to feeling in love all over again.  

_ It’s okay _ , he thought,  _ I’m okay. _

 

 

"How about we go down and meet the others now? I think there are some competitive games you and Keith might enjoy."

**Author's Note:**

> Hey friends! I hope you enjoyed this short thing, I've had it sitting in my files for who knows how long. Lance is definitely an open character that spills his feelings everywhere, but sometimes you gotta suck it up when the going gets tough and that could lead to clogging your emotions. At least he has Shiro to remind him of that.  
> Find me on Tumblr @waffle-walks


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